


Rainbow Days

by Hock_hug



Series: 52 Weeks of Hockey [28]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sestina, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hock_hug/pseuds/Hock_hug
Summary: Casey fucked up and he needs to fix it





	Rainbow Days

**Author's Note:**

> My friend was writing a sestina for class so I figured I'd fuck around and write a fic in that format. This is what came out of it! I hope you enjoy! If you do, leave a comment and I will try another one.
> 
> My six words were red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. I used variants of them for different parts of the work!

Casey wanted to yell, he wanted to scream, he could only see red  
as he walked down his street, the sun blazing bright and orange  
above him. He was an idiot, he thought to himself as he passed daffodils, bright and yellow.  
He came to the crosswalk before his destination, his destiny, and waited for the light to turn green.  
He walked across the street, praying that the man he loved across the blue  
line would open his door when he arrived. Rasmus opened the door with bags under his eyes, stark and purple.

Casey walked across the threshold and took in his friend, purple  
bruises littering his body in places unseen by most, red  
marks marring his skin where pucks and men had hit him. He missed the blue  
sky for a moment while the darkness of Rasmus’s apartment overtook him, the only light faintly orange  
coming from the kitchen lightbulb Casey told him to replace last week. The leaves of the flowers he had left behind were no longer green,  
their hue lost with the love he lost. The daffodils had lost their appeal, though they were still yellow.

With memories of their fight still lingering, he looked at the scene through a sepia  
lense, wishing he could clear the air but unsure of how. A candle burned, lavender  
filling the stale air as Rasmus finally looked at him. “What?” he asked, and Casey was jaded.  
How could he explain how his heart bled crimson  
the last time he left? How could he explain that he could barely get out of bed, his bones covered in rust  
and his mind with things unsaid? He had to say something, he had to fix this, so he built his voice with steel.

“Darling,” and Rasmus flinched, as if the word hurt him, and Casey felt like he was drowning in a navy  
sea. “I’m sorry.” Rasmus looked at him, shut off and mellow.  
He found himself longing for the days where Rasmus looked at him with adoration and spoke to him with words like honey  
and he knew that he could not fix this, not alone. They stood there in silence until Rasmus straightened out, standing like a royal  
in front of his loyal subject. “You hurt me, Case,” and he knew it, it was another brick  
in the wall between him. “But I see it now.” Casey let a faint hope bubble up inside him, like a splash of seafoam.

“I hurt you too, and for that, I am sorry.” For a moment, time stood still, the air around them thick like sage  
smoke in an empty room. He had come to fix this, hoping to create a new slate  
for them to build off of, and he could taste it in the air. Rasmus still had his heart under an imperial  
rule, and he seemed to know it. “I forgive you, but please,” he begged. “Don’t hurt me again.” the spice  
of their fight was replaced with the sweetness of Rasmus’s lips as he kissed him, as he left mauve  
marks on his neck, and they fell into bed as Casey ran his fingers through Rasmus’s hair, soft and flaxen.

They woke together later, while the sun was no longer yellow  
shining bright in the sky. Casey left Rasmus’s arms and saw the flowers. He longed for the green  
to return again, but he knew that it never would. He grabbed a glass of water and returned to lay on Rasmus’ purple  
sheets. He forgot how well they suited him, not quite like the blue  
of their jerseys, but they encased his nobility all the same. The orange  
light remained on in the kitchen as he tucked himself back against his lover, and his heart beat full and red.


End file.
